Abstract
This paper provides evidence on the impacts that students have had on neighbourhoods in five case study cities in the UK. Drawing on extensive qualitative interview data in these cities, the paper shows how national policy towards higher education had unintended and unanticipated problems for urban policy-makers. It argues that responses to these problems are shaped by discourses about what is normalised student behaviour and, implicitly, class-based ideologies. These are argued to shape the way in which the problems created by studentified neighbourhoods are perceived and the way in which local actors subsequently respond.
Introduction
This paper provides evidence of the impact that students have on neighbourhoods across five case study cities in the UK. It traces the processes that enabled neighbourhoods with relatively high proportions of students to develop and considers the current policy dilemmas that face those who are seeking to contain the problems that such neighbourhoods cause for other residents. A central argument is that dominant ideas about ‘typical’ students and what it means to be a student shape the way that policy towards students is conceived and delivered.
The context for the work is the sustained increase in participation in higher education in the UK (2003). The previous Labour government was committed to increasing the number of young people who were able to take advantage of a university education, setting a target of 50 per cent. A well-educated workforce was argued to be essential in maintaining a competitive economy, based on hitech, knowledge-driven service industries (Department for Innovation, Universities and Skills, 2008; Warhurst, 2008). There was, additionally, a social justice argument. Participation in higher education has long had a sharp social gradient, with those from better-off families more likely to attend university and therefore able to access better jobs and higher salaries (Archer et al., 2002; Furlong and Forsyth, 2000). Widening participation, by increasing access to higher education for less advantaged young people, was seen as an important element of decreasing intergenerationally transmitted inequality (Adnett, 2006; National Audit Office, 2002; Shaw et al., 2007).
Official HESA data show that, within England, between 1995/96 and 20050/6 the number of students attending higher education increased by 39 per cent to nearly 2 million. Traditionally in the UK students attend university away from their home town. This is partly because there is a strongly hierarchical higher education system: students compete to enter the ‘best’ university that they can, no matter where it is located. Additionally, though, there is a strong (middle-class) norm that interweaves becoming a university student with a protected pathway of leaving home (Christie et al., 2002; Duke-Williams, 2009; Holdsworth, 2006). University students will often continue to receive support from their parents, enabling a gradual acquisition of independence, with the security of the parental ‘safety-net’(Christie et al., 2001).
The expansion of student numbers, especially to encompass young people from less advantaged backgrounds was associated with an increase in the numbers who chose to stay in their parental home and while studying (Christie 2007). This is a less costly way to attend university. The strength of the expected norm of ‘going away’ to study, though, is reflected in concerns that this provides a less advantageous pathway: home students are argued to miss out on some of the added value of university education, such as developing valuable social networks and participating in the wider life of the university (Holdsworth, 2006; Patiniotis and Holdsworth, 2005).
Despite this, student populations increased markedly in many cities and smaller towns in the UK over a relatively short period (Munro et al., 2009; Universities UK, 2006). This expansion of student numbers was not matched by sufficient provision of institutional accommodation by the universities; instead, students had to find their own accommodation, typically in the private rented sector (Rugg et al., 2000, 2002). Smith (2002 and 2005) coined the phrase ‘studentification’ to describe changes akin to gentrification (further explored in Smith 2009; Smith and Holt 2007). Students occupied neighbourhoods increasingly intensively, displacing previous residents and changing their character, driven by a recommodification of the housing stock (for other examples, see Allison, 2006; Hubbard, 2008). Hubbard (2008) argues that the media representation of studentification is almost entirely negative, described in language which has parallels to racism (of ghettos, swamping, tipping-points) that would not be acceptable applied elsewhere.
The key task undertaken in this paper is to examine the evolving policy responses to the local impacts of students. In particular, the paper traces how the effects of national HE policy created significant, but unanticipated, challenges for local actors. It seeks to trace the ways in which specific local contexts and histories create differential geographies of student residence. The paper examines how policy responses are shaped in particular local contexts and argues that strongly held, normative views about what it means to be a student have both shaped the perception of the policy ‘problem’ created by studentified neighbourhoods and shaped policy responses.
Methods
The research on which this paper is based examined the impact of students as workers and residents on five case study cities. The cities were chosen to represent each of the devolved administrations of the UK. The focus of the work was on post-industrial cities because of the interest in the regenerative potential of the economic vitality that growing student populations could bring. Belfast, Cardiff, Glasgow, Nottingham and Sunderland were chosen as analysis (of census and as provided by the State of the English cities report (Parkinson et al., 2006)) showed that they had varied employment and industrial characteristics, and differing affluence and trajectories of regeneration, as well as a varied mix of HE provision. They also experienced varied rates of growth in student numbers over the decade to 2005/06 from under 20 per cent in Belfast (whose policy framework had been different, with a lower limit (the MASN cap) imposed on the growth in higher education places) to 64 per cent in Cardiff. Detailed analysis of the census revealed that all these places had neighbourhoods of nationally high student occupation (see Table 1). It is recognised that this is inevitably only a partial representation of student places, as London and many small towns have significant HEI provision. The selection was designed to enable more telling comparisons by limiting some of the huge variability in the map of HE provision through a focus on provincial post-industrial cities.
Some key characteristics of student populations in the sample cities (PUAs) a : 2001 census (percentages)
Notes: aPUAs (Primary Urban Areas) are as defined in Parkinson et al. (2006). bThese SOAs (Super Output Areas) contain over 4.6 per cent students.
The case study work consisted of over 100 detailed, semi-structured interviews with key actors in the cities. A parallel series of interviews in each city were conducted with key actors concerned with all aspects of students as either residents or workers. They were drawn from within the universities (including accommodation and employment offices, student unions); the public sector (including local authorities, regional economic agencies, police) and the private sector (landlords’ representatives, residents’ groups, employment agencies, etc.). In each location, this core set of interviews was supplemented with others with particular engagement in the issues locally (so for instance, some universities had appointed specialist community liaison officers, some police forces had dedicated community police officers, but these were not present in all the cities). All interviews were recorded and detailed transcriptions made (apart from a small number who preferred not to have their interviews recorded, in which case very detailed notes were made directly after the interviews). 1 Analysis was conducted both to contrast the experience between cities and to interrogate common themes within all. Taken together, they provide a detailed tapestry of the different ways in which students were impacting on the cities involved and also (as many interviewees had been in their posts and living in the cities for a period of time) of the ways in which these impacts were changing.
The paper has four main further sections. It first provides an overview of the contrasting ways in which student neighbourhoods developed in the case study cities and then reviews the evidence as to the impacts that students had. It then analyses the contested way in which key actors position the student ‘problem’. The fourth section shows how this positioning of the policy issue allies to a class-based tolerant discourse around students and studenthood to create a set of particular local policy approaches—non-individualised and non-punitive. The last section concludes with some reflections on possible future developments.
The Development of Student Neighbourhoods
The efficiency with which the private rented sector responded to the demands of the growing student populations is striking. This is unexpected given the typical characterisation of the private rented sector in housing policy terms as being a very poorly organised and poorly performing part of the housing system, dominated by amateur landlords with small, and sometimes accidentally acquired, portfolios (comprehensive recent evidence is in Crook et al., 2009; Rugg and Rhodes, 2008). It is clear that in all the case studies the economic incentive to provide student housing was strong. Although individual students are not very affluent, the combined purchasing power of a sharing household of four or five students, created a classic rent gap between what the property was worth to landlords and what it was worth to potential owner-occupiers. The demand by landlords had driven up prices in student areas faster than in surrounding neighbourhoods
There were a lot of landlords looking to buy them so you’ve got a lot of people in their 50s being able to sell their house and move further out, to the leafier suburbs and make money that way. And a lot of the very old residents died … when they die the families tend to sell to landlords as they’re the ones that can move in quickly and make a purchase … residents who have a major problem with students are only too happy to sell to a landlord who will rent the property to students. The irony is lost on them (Cardiff: community representative).
Even those seeking to act with concern for those remaining in their old neighbourhood could be caught out
one friend got caught … she thought she was selling it to a doctor and her family—and the doctor promptly let it to five students! (Glasgow: community representative).
Residents’ representatives in some areas reported that, if residents complained to a landlord about a property, they would immediately receive an offer from the landlord to buy their property. So, a self-reinforcing process is established whereby original residents find it profitable to leave and, as they are replaced by student households, ever more residents are encouraged to leave and “because of the students other people won’t buy there” (LA: HMO officer).
All cities had very distinctly defined student areas, typically in close proximity to the main university campuses, as students want to live within a short walk to their university (see for instance, Rugg et al., 2002; Universities UK, 2006). Respondents in all case studies could give very detailed geographies, describing student neighbourhoods as being bounded within particular streets, even to the extent that one side of a street could be student housing and the other side not. Although in Belfast students from different universities shared student areas, more typically university officials talked about being able to tell immediately if a complaint received about a student was ‘one of theirs’ by their address.
The work confirmed the ability of student households to adopt a great range of physical form of housing. One of the key characteristics of student households is their flexibility—groups of friends who can adapt as easily to living in small houses, with space for two or three to share, as to large houses where five or six could do so. In Belfast and Cardiff, much student housing was modest terraced housing, while in Nottingham large semi-detached and detached houses were being used, in what had been high-quality, middle-class neighbourhoods. As student numbers rose, there tended to be increasingly intense occupation of core areas by students, more than a spread to other areas.
The pace and intensity of these changes appear to have taken local actors by surprise: certainly, there is no sense that policy-makers had thought about the neighbourhood impacts of the growing student population in advance of their arrival. Markets were simply left to provide for them—which developed student-orientated provision of a range of leisure and retail amenities as well as housing very efficiently. Some of these cities were also beginning to see the development of commercially provided student accommodation (see too Hubbard, 2009), although this was largely seen as being in competition with the universities’ own accommodation.
The Impacts of Increased Student Occupation
The common processes associated with ‘studentification’ play out differentially depending both on the detail of the local context and the policy responses to them. Students were a source of conflict to some degree with residents in all cities, with the notable exception of Sunderland
No—we’ve never ever had any complaints—or very few, about anti-social behaviour or anything. Never ever. I might have one in four years—one or two. (Sunderland: LA representative).
And also from a landlord
I’ve never picked up any major complaints, in student houses—where people are saying they’re partying all night,
The lack of conflict in Sunderland can be explained by, first, the lower numbers, growth and density of students (see Table 1). Secondly, there is a discourse that positions students in some cities as ‘other’ (a mix of class and region—some student groups can be seen as disproportionately privately educated, ‘home counties’, ‘posh’, more privileged than local populations). In Sunderland, perhaps because many students are from the north-east region, this ‘othering’ discourse appears less strong. Further, the relatively recent acquisition of university status and the fact that overseas students are increasingly coming to study in Sunderland is widely seen as a very positive development. That the university brings visible ethnic minority students to a traditionally undiversified city was seen by respondents as something to celebrate.
Students bring Sunderland an extra layer—they make Sunderland more interesting; they add to the vibrancy of the city (SU advisor). A lot of the overseas student bring their cultures with them … It’s got a massive impact and it’s all positive (Sunderland: landlord).
In other cities, the sources of complaint are the familiar ones and need not be rehearsed in great detail, although the distress they cause other residents is deeply felt and often very strongly expressed (they are very well summarised in Smith, 2005; Universities UK, 2006). First, is the disamenity caused by the distinctive lifestyles of many students, particularly the late-night drinking and parties, late taxis creating noise and disruption for other residents. Secondly, are the impacts on the physical environment: visual pollution from multiple lettings boards, the degradation of the physical condition of properties, the neglect of gardens, fences and walls.
Thirdly, a set of problems are caused by the relatively intense occupation of properties not designed for this purpose, allied to the fact that most students are young and not experienced in managing a house. So, the disposal of rubbish is a very widespread problem caused partly by the waste generated at the end of year when students dispose of unwanted items, but is also an on-going problem where student households may not remember which days rubbish is uplifted, or to separate recycling. Crime is a problem too, as student households are not always careful about making sure doors and windows are secured and they are targets because they will typically have multiple copies of valuable and easily portable items (mp3 players, mobile phones, laptops). It was also noted that the seasonality of students adds to the crime problems—potential thieves know that student houses are unoccupied during holidays. The general level of ambient noise is greater than would be generated by a family household, simply because they contain several young adults, playing music and entertaining friends. Students are increasingly likely to have a car creating considerable congestion.
The physical design of the housing and neighbourhoods also impacts on the intensity with which these problems are experienced by other neighbours. So for example, the relatively large houses in Nottingham produce less noise pollution for their neighbours and indeed one resident in such an area noted that, given a choice, students too would avoid conflict with neighbours
Increasingly students want to have properties which have off-road parking, so that’s changed the type of property that they look for … students like detached as they think they’re not going to be bothered by next-door neighbours (Nottingham: residents’ group).
While in Belfast
These houses are poorly built and have single brick walls making them not very noise proof (LA officer).
Externally, the tenement areas in Glasgow seem relatively less affected by the problems created by students; they were built for occupation by many households and the substantial stone structures remain attractive. Planning enforcement is relatively effective against the proliferation of lettings signs and residents’ parking schemes are also enforced. Yet residents’ complaints are very much the same as elsewhere, in many instances exacerbated by the problems created by shared responsibility for the upkeep of common parts, such as roofs and staircases, and the very direct effect that poor maintenance or poor alterations of properties can have on residents who live in flats directly above or below student households. These tangible problems are subject to various more or less successful policy measures discussed later.
There are problems too, though, with the less tangible changes that are created by the changing social mix in the area and these too impact on the extent to which the environmental problems already outlined have adverse impacts. Many residents feel a keen loss of community, and particularly a loss of families in the area
The impact on local communities has been profound causing a number of problems: loss of community spirit, loss of neighbourliness, loss of facilities for families, loss of churches, loss of schools … Residents have found themselves alienated in their own communities (Belfast: LA officer). People feel it in the Christmas holidays when it’s dark, and I’ve heard several residents say they’ve come home or home from work and they look out their window and theirs is the only light in the street. So there is that sense of feeling quite vulnerable (Nottingham: resident’s group).
The constant turnover of students is likened to ‘groundhog day’ when every academic year brings a new set of neighbours who will need to be educated about the practicalities of bin days and how to complain to their landlords. In addition, there is a set of particular practices associated with adopting the identity of ‘student’—the rituals of freshers’ week, parties to mark the end of term, exams, Halloween, 21st birthdays—that each cohort performs in turn while established residents suffer the whole cycle every year. The HMO Lobby describes this as students living in an eternal ‘present’—they have no sense that the area has a past, nor any commitment to it in the future (National HMO Lobby, 2008).
In some instances, student areas are now so dominated by students and other young people that complaints are rare. So for example, one student area in Cardiff is now overwhelmingly populated by students and other young professional/ex-student households
But where just about every house is virtually a student house, you don’t tend to get many complaints about noise. It’s only where there’s more residential areas, more families. Cathays is so full of students, it’s not the Cathays houses we would get problems about (Cardiff: letting agent). [Conflict] is worse in some ways, those areas that are half and half, there’s quite a few residents; where it’s reached 90 per cent students you are an absolute minority. You’re almost extinct you’ve become so small (Nottingham: LA officer).
This raises issues of collective efficacy in maintaining particular norms of behaviour and mutually acceptable levels of disturbance. Where there are very high student populations, it is impossible for other residents to exercise an effective check on behaviour that they found annoying or disruptive. And it was noted too that students are generally unwilling to try and exercise any such social control on their peers. The process has clear parallels with, although contrasts to, the outcome of gentrification, summarised by Atkinson
as areas become more fully gentrified, they fade from view as problematic spaces and become established, middle class enclaves (Atkinson, 2004, p. 116).
What is interesting in student areas is that they may indeed fade from view, as there are fewer of the original residents left to complain, but at the same time, they continue to exhibit problematic characteristics.
Positioning the Student Problem
As already noted, processes of ‘studentification’ have been likened to gentrification (Smith, 2005). As with gentrification, the new population could only be accommodated by displacement of existing populations, in this case by students. It has been argued that in debates about gentrification the purported positive virtues of the process, as an inevitable and irresistible element of regeneration of urban areas have become normalised (Atkinson, 2003; Slater, 2004). In contrast, the public debate around studentification has focused much more strongly on the negative (Smith, 2009). This may be partly because the voice of the affluent gentrifier is heard and valorised compared with the working-class residents who become displaced (Atkinson, 2004). In contrast, in student neighbourhoods the ‘original’ residents are defined in policy processes as ‘the community’ and their voice of resistance is clearly recognised and heard in the policy process. This reflects the distinctive characteristics of the student population—although they are a large and permanent presence en masse, as individuals they are transient and, as Hubbard (2008) argues, students are absent from local political processes. Part of the explanation may also lie in the class positioning of the original residents—more middle-class residents may always, as Atkinson proposes, express views that are consonant with dominant policy positions. And certainly, contrasting experience across and within the case studies, the areas that have had the most middle-class residents are generally those that have the highest profile and best-organised campaigns to resist the ill-effects of student residents. It would be expected that more affluent areas have a greater number of residents with the skills and determination to complain to the authorities in what can appear to be unending battles over recurring problems.
However, the case studies also show how local factors can impact to create distinctive sites of resistance. Belfast is an interesting example of extreme conflict between the student population and existing residents—to the extent of physically violent conflict in the streets
I just find it scary living here—and this area should be beautiful (Belfast: residents’ representative).
Here, it was argued that the legacy of sectarian conflict places constraint on alternative housing choices (given strong demarcations between areas that are traditionally Catholic or Protestant). Also, interestingly, the legacy of the troubles was said to mean that the police are particularly reluctant to take action that might appear heavy-handed
There are certainly some stories of police having to be rescued from an unruly mob of students (Belfast: community representative).
Policy Responses
As indicated, in four of the case study areas, student areas were seen as problematic in some ways. Although many of the issues noted earlier have been identified in other studies, this case study work allows a closer examination of the dominant discourses around these issues. Policy is always developed in the context of contested interpretations and struggle to shape the policy agenda and definition of the policy problem (Howlett, 2011; Wu et al., 2010). This is evident in the process of studentification, where residents’ and community groups have on balance a more negative view of the impacts of the changes they see, while university voices are, as would be expected, rather more pro-student. In some case studies, though, universities were beginning to become more proactive in managing the impacts of their expanding presence on neighbourhoods. A broad range of other key actors—in local authorities, the police and landlords—are also important in shaping responses to the issues associated with student populations. Here, we trace how the differing perspectives of the key actors shape various policy responses.
Throughout the case study work, there are voices that dispute the positioning of students as the key driver of change in urban areas (see Stone, 1989, for a discussion of the impact of ‘stories’ on policy agendas). Instead, there is appeal to broader processes of change, so students are seen as filling what would otherwise be a gap, left by processes of suburbanisation that are causing families to leave inner-city areas (everywhere) like those currently occupied by students
If you didn’t have students living there, it wouldn’t suddenly be a very attractive area for families—you’d just have different sorts of problems or different sorts of groups moving in that would also cause resentment (Cardiff: community representative). I get annoyed at people saying they’re forcing people out, because if you look nationally, people are moving out of cities in droves—you want a house with a garden, somewhere to put your car, if you look at the houses in [student areas] they front straight onto a main road, they have no garden, certainly nowhere to park your car and families want a garden … I think students are a catalyst in this area, for it to happen faster, but it’s unfair to put them down as the cause of it (university liaison officer).
Many student areas were said to contain other ‘non-traditional’ households that might also be troublesome
If social services want to house someone, to rehabilitate them, it is easy to rehouse them in this sort of area … as opposed to moving them to a residential street, full of doctors … they are hidden in an area that is in turmoil, in chaos (Belfast: community representative).
These contested interpretations shape the way in which policy solutions are discussed and developed. First, some of the complaints by residents can be interpreted by other actors as being unrealistic; nostalgic for a past golden age that cannot return
I think it’s a pie-in-the-sky plan to invite back those who have left and to move out students (Belfast: SU officer). People have this utopian ideal that if it wasn’t for the students then everything would be fine, but actually because of the housing stock—it’s never going to be an area for middle-class White families, which is what those who moan the most tend to want (Cardiff: community representative)
This discourse positions the ‘problem’ of student areas as not really a problem at all—both inevitable and better than the alternative—and immediately implies a certain impossibility of fixing the fundamental problems. It is interesting too that the language describing the residents’ complaints as misguided ‘moans’, perhaps leads to the conclusion that they do not merit a serious policy response.
Similar arguments could be identified around the impacts of students on local amenities. For instance, all case study cities identified changes in local businesses to accommodate student demands, including more bars, more fast food and takeaway outlets, or small ‘metro’ supermarkets stocking convenience food. Yet, even residents who, for example, regretted the passing of local bakers or post offices, also acknowledged that such shops were closing everywhere. Indeed, the argument was made that residents benefited from student amenities which had gone from other residential areas
If someone put a village shop into my village—it closed down years ago—that would be great (Nottingham: university officer).
Again, these responses both contest the extent to which identified problems are ‘real’ problems and also imply that there are forces at work beyond the ability of local actors to resist.
A second key discourse that shaped approaches as to how the impacts of students should be dealt with were ideas about students and studenthood. In particular, studenthood is positioned as a ‘liminal’, transitional time, between adolescence and adulthood. Implicitly, there is much acceptance and forgiveness of behaviour that departs from norms of responsible, well-behaved, sober adult citizenship—indeed, an expectation that such behaviour is an inevitable part of being a student. Respondents of all types expressed a shared view of what student life is expected to be. Students, freed from parental constraint, are described as ‘off the leash’, ‘going berserk’, ‘going bananas’; they party like an ‘18–30 camp in Ibiza’; they act ‘like kids in a sweetie shop’ in relation to the availability of alcohol and it is explicitly assumed that students will be frequenting pubs and clubs, hosting parties and generally having fun, as a routine part of their daily lives (Chatterton, 1999, discusses how this distinctive behaviour plays out in the night-time economy). This taken-for-granted tolerance of students contrasts sharply with the near demonisation of young people in other contexts in the UK, particularly in relation to binge-drinking and other forms of anti-social behaviour and the strongly punitive policies pursued towards young people who are branded in this way (even just for ‘hanging around’ in what might be seen as a threatening group). Students’ heavy drinking and other bad behaviour is seen more indulgently
There was one running up and down and there was scaffolding—and they thought they were spears or something, and someone was going to get hurt—and the police will come along—and it’s just high spirits would be the word (Belfast community representative). And when they’ve been drinking a lot, they’re noisy … We have tales about people having naked bike races up and down the streets that they live in, races in the wheelie bins, that sort of thing. I want to say it’s not really serious anti-social behaviour (Nottingham: community representative).
This supports Selwyn’s (2008) work which argues that many students too see heavy drinking and frequent drunkenness to be an ‘expected’ part of being an undergraduate student and that minor criminal acts such as minor thefts and vandalism are a relatively frequent occurrence.
Implicitly, this relative tolerance is underpinned by a class-based discourse that presumes that students are middle class (not criminal). Even those campaigning to mitigate the local impacts of student populations seek to stress that they are not ‘anti-student’: students are basically nice, not blameworthy; that it is thoughtlessness rather than ill-will that causes them to give their neighbours problems. Problems tend therefore not to be seen as being caused by individual trouble-makers (whom it would be possible, in principle, to identify and expel), but by the fact that the neighbourhoods are so densely occupied by students that there is an accumulation of occasional transgressions
It’s not that the students are bad, perhaps they are thoughtless (Nottingham: university officer). I genuinely think that for a majority of students it’s a lack of awareness rather than a desire to make trouble (Nottingham: SU).
Again, it is interesting to contrast these discourses with the way that anti-social behaviour is discussed in relation to disadvantaged communities where trouble-makers are identified as individualised actors; gang members, dysfunctional families and the ‘neighbours from hell’ (see for example, Flint, 2002; Millie, 2009). Although there are potentially many actors who could impose significant penalties on students acting disruptively (police, landlords, universities, parents), there is no apparent appetite for heavy-handed sanctions. Instead, policy approaches tend to be persuasive, light-hearted and light-touch. It is also the case, of course, that while local residents may have to bear the brunt of the problems, it is actively against the financial interests of the university or the landlord, for example, to expel or evict students. There is the further contradiction that students are adults living independently, but also belong to an institution that is (typically only recently) accepting some responsibility for the ways in which expanded student numbers have had spill-over consequences. (This has parallels to Robinson and Adams’ (2008) argument that UK universities have been slower than their US counterparts to identify responsibility to their communities’ urban development activities.) Yet there was no suggestion in the case studies that problems might be tackled in an individualised way, such as through ASBOs, curfews or behaviour orders, which have been used to tackle ‘problem youth’ in the UK over recent years. Implicitly, such measures would be unfair to individual students if they penalise what is positioned as ‘normal’ student behaviour: there is no appetite to criminalise middle-class youngsters.
Instead, the problems are defined as the densities of student neighbourhoods, but it was difficult to implement effective policies against this. At the time of the study, several case study cities were considering whether there were ways of at least limiting expansion of student occupation even if it was seen as too difficult to roll back from the population levels currently achieved (and see Hubbard’s, 2008, discussion of a planning initiative adopted in Loughborough). Belfast’s policy was most developed. The city had designated some areas as ‘HMO policy areas’, 2 in which no more than 30 per cent of dwelling units should be HMOs. However, current concentrations already exceeded this figure, so the policy was intended to stop all future developments of HMOs until the proportion falls, by refusing any further planning permission to HMOs.
In other cities, policies were less well-developed. Despite policies having been in place for some time, local authority officers were still compiling records and were unsure of precisely how many HMOs there were and could not know how many remained unlicensed or lacked planning permission. This is not surprising; it is a new and onerous requirement.
Those charged with the implementation of policies to control the density of HMOs suggested their powers were weak—local authority officers in Glasgow said they were ‘powerless’ and even that “there’s not actually much point in the policy”. Penalties against landlords that failed to comply were also weak: the rare prosecutions result in modest fines. Residents’ representatives, aware of local examples of landlords acting in contravention of the regulatory framework, believe that landlords simply calculate that it is a risk worth taking. Local authorities appeared to lack the resources required to pursue their available powers vigorously. Legislation was strengthened in 2010, so that local authorities are now able to demand planning permission for any proposed conversion of a family home into a HMO for three or more people. It remains to be seen how effective this change will be.
Given the difficulty of controlling student housing, attention turned to tackling the symptoms of the problem of high student density, to tackle problems (like rubbish disposal) that should not be ‘rocket science’ in the words of a Cardiff local authority officer. Some university commentators emphasised that this was the appropriate way to handle problems
What I see is that this area has a different need to that other area, so let’s react to that need. So if you’ve got issues with the way the bins are collected, let’s meet that need, not push the students out (Nottingham: SU).
There is considerable exasperation expressed across the case study areas that this apparently relatively straightforward and predictable problem continues to be so intractable.
We’re thinking about managing next year’s waste and rubbish—every year we think we’ve got it covered, but every year it’s a mess again (LA officer).
Many complained of the disproportionately large amount of resources that were devoted to maintaining the environment of student areas. For example, in Cardiff it was estimated that half of all complaints about rubbish to the local authority concerned the two main student areas. Interviewees’ comments were more forgiving of student households who were facing the challenges of managing independently for the first time than of landlords who they thought ought to be more responsible
At the end of the year, [landlords] throw out everything … but they leave them in the front gardens for ages (Belfast: community representative).
In principle, it would seem that, like household waste, some of the other problems ought to be relatively straightforward to control. Parking can be managed by having residents’ parking schemes; planning powers can be used to limit the visual pollution caused by the proliferation of ‘to let’ signs; and local authorities have noise teams who are able to impose penalties for intrusive noise beyond specific limits; CCTV can monitor vandalism: but all are likely to be resource intensive if they are to be effective. Comparing across case studies, there is a sense in which local authorities pick which battles to fight, perhaps responding to the main concerns of the established community.
Landlords bear responsibility for the physical condition and external appearance of student properties and respondents throughout the case studies stressed that these problems were, therefore, not the direct fault of the students. Yet here too powers are limited. Licensing only relates to internal property condition. In extreme cases, such as the emergence of environmental health concerns, there are some powers for local authorities to act, but there is nothing to enforce better upkeep of boundary walls, more frequent painting of windows or tidier gardens. And indeed, if such powers were proposed, no doubt there would be a great deal of concern about unwarranted intrusion of regulation into the way that (all) owners choose to manage their properties.
The police also become involved in managing disruptive behaviour. Yet it was stressed that the police would not formally take names, that they do not want to penalise the students (implicitly acting ‘normally’). It was emphasised that students were more likely to be victims of crime than to cause it. In Cardiff and Nottingham, police initiatives tried to reduce the vulnerability of students to crime. This was deliberately designed to be light-hearted and friendly—for instance, putting cut-out footprints where a burglar might have been able to enter by a window left partially open. One community police officer described how, when a student was caught in more serious anti-social behaviour, they would use it to send a warning to others, perhaps involving the press to send a message that such actions constituted a potential threat to the student’s academic future—but it was decidedly in the spirit of trying to change collective attitudes, rather than with a view to punishing individual students.
A range of measures are adopted by the universities to help students to be better neighbours in their community and to deal with anti-social behaviour amongst students. All provide written advice, although it was felt that students did not always pay much attention to the rather overwhelming amount of information they were presented with at the beginning of the year. The main emphasis again is on the persuasive and light-hearted. So, two universities talked about running a Sshh! campaign, encouraging students to be quiet when leaving pubs and clubs by having student volunteers hand out lollipops. Some universities have appointed a student liaison officer whose main job is to try and help smooth out any conflicts in relationships between students and residents. Students get a visit and a relatively stern talking-to for a first offence and it was argued that very few ever do it again. Belfast has community wardens who patrol the streets in the evening, although a residents’ representative complained they were “doing the minimal amount possible—just to get the people out of the pubs and into their beds”.
The minor vandalism that students might engage in was also viewed tolerantly, including damaging cars (in Belfast, students reportedly play a game which involved getting down the length of a street without touching the ground), but again these are perceived as being more mischievous and ‘daft’ rather than deliberately destructive. Even in Belfast, where conflict was relatively high, a community representative described a resident’s response to having a window broken by a student
[What] He said was, he didn’t want to give the student a bad start in life, by getting him reported to the police.
Conclusions
This paper has charted the way that increased numbers of students in cities have created differential geographies, shaped by local contexts and histories, and has explored the way in which policy has developed in relation to the problems of ‘studentification’. It has argued that there are real dilemmas for local actors, faced with problems driven by national policy change, with unanticipated local impacts. There are strong similarities in the problems across the case studies, although the local context shapes which of these trouble local actors most and the severity with which they are felt by local communities. It is important to acknowledge, too, that any problems caused by students were seen to be counterbalanced to a significant degree by the real positive benefits that students brought to the cities, particularly significant and visible economic, cultural and social boosts. This, added to the discourse that normalised and condoned what was often quite troublesome student behaviour, particularly for the original population, meant that policy responses were underpinned by both negative and more ambivalent views about the impact of students, from a range of those involved—a balance argued to be urgently needed in the general gentrification literature (Smith, 2009).
Effectively dealing with the problems created by students has been argued to be constrained by a range of factors. There are fundamental issues for cities in seeking ways of rolling-back outcomes created by the earlier, unfettered operation of housing markets. These processes were shown to have a self-reinforcing momentum, too, which made it progressively harder to pursue effective action. However, it is further argued that dealing with the problematic symptoms created by students was also shaped by a tolerant view of what student life is expected to be and an implicit class-based discourse of students as middle-class (thus basically ‘nice’, if sometimes thoughtless). Overall, policy is constructed in a gentle, persuasive spirit and apparently with no real expectation that the fundamental behaviours can, or perhaps even should, be changed. Partly, this paper has argued, this is because the problems are not defined as being individualised and are seen as an inevitable element of the student habitus. It is possible to speculate too that the tolerance of many key actors may have been shaped by their own experience of enjoying the freedoms of studenthood at an earlier point in their lives. However, the paper also raises the question as to whether the underpinning discourses accepting studenthood as an irresponsible, and often drunken interlude, could or should be opened up to more explicit scrutiny and challenge.
In all case studies, students occupy neighbourhoods that have been long associated with students. Yet the marked changes identified earlier, in response to the rapid increase in student numbers, created more rapid and fundamental change in many of these areas than had been anticipated or planned for. Universities were best placed to understand the trajectories created by underlying trends in funding and were no doubt planning in other ways for increased student numbers, but were not proactive in planning for the impacts that this would have on local areas. For other actors involved, such as the police and local authority planners and environmental teams, the impacts of rapidly increased student numbers could not have expected to be on any strategic ‘radar’ and responses have tended to be reactive.
This work was done just as the fortunes of the housing market were changing, while the scale of the public-sector funding cuts was not then anticipated. Student areas were shown to have adapted quickly to the increase in demand, but the analysis of past experience in these cities suggest some pessimism as to how areas would fare if there were to be a rapid, parallel decline in the demand from students. There were already hints that some areas in Nottingham were suffering from lower demand from students, with a rise in vacancies. Increased commercial development was also weakening the level of student demand (Hubbard, 2009). More recently, more radical changes to HE funding in the UK raise the prospect of dramatic local changes driven by the rising cost of attending university, which may cause more students to live at home or even not to attend at all (a recent survey by Ipsos/MORI (2010) suggested that higher fees would be a significant disincentive to many young people thinking about attending higher education). There is a potential for marked redrawing of the map of HE.
This may well result in neighbourhoods in which there was markedly reduced demand from students for accommodation and a desire from landlords to disinvest rapidly. This may be difficult, when the housing market is slow and some of these areas have suffered severe reputational damage and now contain unattractive houses previously multiply occupied and difficult to convert back, even to low-price owner-occupation. This raises the spectre of quite rapid localised decline, with downward pressure on rent levels, increased vacancies and repossessions and forced sales. There is a need for continued research to chart the changing impacts of students in different places. It is likely that these changes will be experienced very differently depending on general economic resilience and local housing market dynamics, as was evident in previous economic downturns (Lee and Bondi, 1995). There are many smaller towns in Britain where the student population has become equal to, or even greater, than the permanent population, where the potential ability for destabilising changes to local economies from changes in student demands is particularly acute. There must be a case for thinking about new ways of forging partnerships between HEIs and the local policy community, to find ways of anticipating and managing such changes better than in the past. If traditional relationships between ‘town and gown’ were characterised as universities being ‘in’ but not ‘of’ their localities (Hall, 1997), there must now be an argument as to the degree of responsibility that universities ought to have for their broader impacts, even where unintentional, on their localities.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
The authors wish to acknowledge the supportive and helpful comments of the referees.
Notes
The author is grateful for the support of ESRC grant RES-171-25-0039 in undertaking this work.